


(1)5 Exes and Sid

by hazel_3017



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 5 Times, Demisexual!Sid, Equal Opportunity Lover!Geno, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, plus one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 03:23:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6035995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazel_3017/pseuds/hazel_3017
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Geno fell in and out of love, plus one time he stayed in love.</p>
<p>Or, the one where Geno dates a lot of people before realising the love of his life has been in front of him all along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(1)5 Exes and Sid

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to everyone on tumblr who encouraged me throughout writing this one. It was supposed to be finished sooner, but got delayed on account of my blog being deleted. It's done now, though, so enjoy!

Oksana is not his first love, but even before her, when Zhenya is young, young _er_ , he never really dated all that much. Mostly, there are hookups. He fools around with girls his own age and experiments with boys; he's a teenager, untested and eager, and Zhenya learns about himself and the kind of sex he likes. 

When he meets Oksana he is barely eighteen, has been having sex since he was fifteen, and he thinks it must be love at first sight. She is his first real relationship. He falls head over heels in love with her, and there are no more hookups with anyone else. Mostly there is Oksana and hockey and hockey with _Sid—_ there istime for little else in between all that.

Zhenya goes to Pittsburgh (to Sid) and he is so excited, living out his dream and playing in the NHL for the team that drafted him. It's hard being in a different country where he doesn't speak the language, where the culture is a little different, but he has Oksana and he is happy and he manages.

For a while.

Then, eventually, there is no Oksana, and Zhenya is lonely and not at all horrible looking no matter what Sanja claims. In fact, reliable sources would even call him kind of hot.

So he starts dating. He starts dating _a lot_. And maybe sleeps around a lot too.

Girls, boys—anything on two legs really, Lazy jokes once, crude as usual.

(There’s a lot of sex over the years, is what he’s saying.)

Zhenya is a little bit in love with them all, or maybe in love with being in love. He brings his partners around for team parties and charity events and eventually, his friends give up on trying to form a relationship with his dates, because in the end they never stick around long enough to become anything more than passing acquaintances. He never finds that special One.

Sid is different, though. Sid: Zhenya's best friend. 

Sidney takes the time to get to know Zhenya's partners, always, and he grows to be friends with them all in his own right. So good, in fact, that he keeps in touch with them long after they’ve moved on from Zhenya and found someone else.

Zhenya has lost count of how many times he’s been forced to accompany Sid while he’s out shopping for a wedding gift for one of his exes, asking for his opinion as if Zhenya is at all interested in finding the perfect present for an ex even if _it is the polite thing to do, Geno, don't be rude._

If Sidney ever thinks it's weird that he keeps getting invited to all of Zhenya’s exes’ weddings, he never says so. Then again, Sid has always been good at accepting things at face value. He's always been very practical.

(Four times, Sidney has not only been invited, but he has been a groomsman too. And once, hilariously, a bridesmaid. He refused to wear a dress.)

The whole thing makes sense to exactly no one but Sid.

Even when they’re out, Zhenya will sometimes run into an ex, and while they are usually cordial and seem more indifferent to him than anything (rarely is a breakup actually bad), they flock to Sidney, always delighted to see him.

It’d be a lie if Zhenya said he doesn’t feel a little bit annoyed about it. It’s just, he’s maybe not so sure _who_ he is annoyed at.

Sid, for staying friends with Zhenya’s exes and refusing to pick sides even after the breakups, or his exes for the way they shamelessly dote on his best friend, showering Sid with an easy affection that showcase their adoration for him.

(Possibly, Zhenya wants to do his own showering of affection. A little bit. Possibly, Zhenya wants that a lot.)

Okay. So maybe Zhenya knows exactly who he is annoyed at.

 

* * *

 

**1\. Julie (#7)**

Zhenya meets Julie at the dealership. She’s unlike anyone he’s ever met.

Oh, she’s beautiful to be sure, and clever as well, but there’s something about her, something Zhenya can’t quite put his finger on that draws him to her.

(He ends up buying the Porsche he came in to buy instead of the sturdy Range Rover she insists will be a lot more practical in the Pittsburgh weather. Zhenya should have known then and there that she and Sid would get along like a house on fire.)

He asks her out after signing on the dotted line that marks him as the proud new owner of his Porsche, and watches as she chews on her bottom lip, glancing worriedly over her shoulder at a man that looks to be her boss. He’s looking back at them disapprovingly.

“I don’t—” She tucks a long strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “I shouldn’t be going out with a customer,” she explains demurely.

Zhenya holds back a smile. She's cute. He likes her a lot.

“It's company policy?”

Julie glances at her boss again. “No,” she admits, and that’s how they start dating.

Over the course of three months, Zhenya learns that Julie is a sci-fi geek, an avid knitter, and an advanced Zumba dancer.

(He really appreciates the Zumba dancing.)

He finds out that she thinks tea is too sweet but that she drowns her coffee in milk and sugar. She likes dogs and kids—which is great!—and doesn’t like hockey—which is less so.

Zhenya can overcome her dislike of hockey. Probably.

“It’s not really so much dislike as it is indifference, you know,” she tries to explain when he brings her around for the Pens’ annual Christmas skate. Duper and Flower stare at her in disbelief.

Sidney, because he’s a lot more sneakier than anyone tends to give him credit for, only nods and says, “Mhm, it’s not for everyone,” and proceeds to inquire after Julie’s interest.

Zhenya joins Duper and Flower, watching in complete and utter fascination as Sid sits through a fifteen-minute lecture on the joys and intricacies of knitting. He looks perfectly attentive too.

“I don’t get it,” Duper says, and Flower nods in agreement next to him.

Zhenya doesn’t say, but he is equally as baffled by what is going to happen next; they’ve seen Sid do this a hundred times before.

Meeting someone who doesn't like or get hockey happens to them way more than people think. The sport is still such a minority within the US, the NHL still something they have to defend against those who argue for the superiority of the NFL or the NBA or the MLB.

ESPN does little to help.

Zhenya usually doesn’t bother anymore. He’ll shrug and suggest they at least give it a chance, but leave it at that.

Sidney takes a different approach. Hockey is Sidney as much as Sidney is hockey; he’ll employ a strategy of education and negotiation, followed by inception that leads, inevitably, to a newly converted fan.  This time is no different.

As Julie finishes up her ode to knitting, they watch as Sidney launches into his own lecture on the virtues of hockey, making no less than _five_ knitting references that somehow has Julie nodding in understanding, a look of interest on her face.

“I never thought of it like that!” she exclaims at one point, and Zhenya shakes his head, amused.

“How does he do this? Every time?”

“Man, I don’t even know. I’ve given up trying to understand. I just know that Vero’s cousin, a diehard Blue Jays fan, suddenly became a Pens fan after our wedding. Sid spent ten minutes with him. _Ten_.”

When they leave the rink that afternoon, Julie sneaks a look at Zhenya.

“You never explained hockey to me like that before,” she says, threading their fingers together and swinging their hands back and forth as they walk across the parking lot. “Sidney made so much sense, you know. I’m going to tag along to your next home game.”

She’s been before, of course, but she hadn't been all that impressed. She actually looks a little excited this time.

Zhenya shakes his head. “What did Sid _say_?” he asks, incredulous.

Julie shrugs. “He just made a lot of sense. And he said he would give knitting a try since I’m coming to the game. He’s coming over tomorrow.”

Zhenya grins. “Of course he is.” He and Julie don’t live together yet, but he assumes by ‘coming over’, she means to his house. Lord knows she has enough knitting stuff there already.

“Teach me to knit too?” he asks, squeezing her hand gently.

Julie laughs. “Sure! But I don’t think you’ll have the patience for it,” she warns, which, as it turns out, he doesn’t, but Julie and Sid enjoy themselves and it makes something bubble inside of Zhenya's chest, warm and fuzzy, to watch his best friend and girlfriend get along so well.

Julie and Sid start something of a semi-regular knitting evening from then on. They’ll knit and chatter while Zhenya smiles at them and watches his Russian soaps (he’s behind, and Sanja will definitely want to discuss the latest episodes the next time they meet).

It’s good until it’s not, until there are no more needles or yarn in his home and no more Julie, and Zhenya falls behind on his soaps again, too busy moping to really pay attention.

He doesn't get out of his funk until one evening his doorbell rings, and it’s Sid at the door. He gives Zhenya that crooked smile of his, holding up a ball of yarn, a half-finished sock, and a pair of knitting needles. “Hi,” he says.

“Hi?” Zhenya says back. It comes out as more of a question than an actual greeting.

“So it turns out that I need Russian soap operas playing in the background when I knit now. I figured you’d be watching. It’s that time, you know.”

Zhenya stares at him. Finally, he grins. “Sure,” he says, and deeply appreciates how Sid politely ignores his misty eyes and the way his voice breaks a little on the single word.

Sidney is a good friend, always has been, but even Zhenya forgets sometimes, just how considerate he really is. How kind.

Zhenya’s been lonely without Julie. He always does better in a relationship—and Sidney knows.

“Thank you,” Zhenya says quietly as he turns on the TV and Sid settles comfortably in his usual corner of the couch.

Sidney hums, but doesn’t say anything, and Zhenya shakes his head fondly, loving Sid for being such a good friend and maybe also for the way he looks so at home in Zhenya’s place.

(Zhenya won’t really think about that until much later).

 

* * *

 

**2\. Andrei (#14)**

Zhenya knows sleeping with a teammate is a little bit not good, and Sid is going to give him so much shit when he finds out.

(Zhenya is under no illusions here. Sid will find out. Sidney always finds out.)

But Andrei is cute and so obviously crushing on him that Zhenya would be a little bit embarrassed on Andrei's behalf if it wasn’t for the fact that it has Zhenya on the receiving end of some truly enthusiastic blowjobs.

Zhenya is rather sizeable. He deeply appreciates anyone who approaches his dick with that kind of enthusiasm.

It won’t last, not least of all because Zhenya lives in Pittsburgh eight months out of twelve—sometimes more, sometimes less—and Andrei is just a little fun for the duration of the championship.

It’s been a hard season. Zhenya feels he’s allowed to indulge in some well-deserved fun, and while Worlds isn’t the Olympics by any means, it’s still got some of that same feeling of seclusion and finality to it. Andrei knows they’ve only got these two weeks. He’s fine with that. Zhenya is pretty sure he’s fine with that.

Besides, it’s mostly harmless. There are blowjobs and hand jobs and kissing—no fucking, sadly, not with games to play—and it’s all good. It’s stress relief. Easing the tension of hard-fought games and hard play, and somehow the days turn into a week and a week closes in on two and somewhere along the way Zhenya grows to be very fond of Andrei. Even a little sad they’ve only got three days left to go.

That wasn’t supposed to happen.

Neither was Sanja walking in on Andrei on his knees before Zhenya, his lips wrapped around Zhenya's dick, but such is his luck.

“Really, Zhenya? Really?” Sanja says judgementally. He drops his bag to the ground before folding his arms across his chest. He looks extremely disappointed with him, which is weird, because Sanja is normally very encouraging of Zhenya’s sex life. Even now.

“I come to Prague to help you win gold, and the first thing I see is you corrupting one of the rookies? Kovy knows, doesn’t he? This is why he said I should room with you. The bastard.”

Andrei, who’d frozen with his mouth around Zhenya’s cock once Sanja barged into the room, pulls off him.

Zhenya is only a little disappointed.

“I’m not a rookie!” Andrei says, looking deeply offended that Sanja would even refer to him as such. “I’m _twenty_.”

Sanja’s jaw ticks, and Zhenya groans, closing his eyes. His dick has all but wilted by now.

“You’re not helping, Dyusha,” he says, just as Sanja repeats, “Really, Zhenya?  _Really_?”

Zhenya sighs. He tucks his cock back into his pants, thankful that they hadn’t gotten around to removing their clothes this time. “Dyusha, would you mind giving us some privacy, please?”

Andrei glares up at him in disbelief, but when Zhenya does little more than look at him pleadingly, he gets to his feet, grumbling all the while. “Fine,” he says. He casts a quick look at Sanja before leaning over to press a deep kiss to Zhenya’s lips. Nothing chaste about it.

Sanja rolls his eyes at them as Andrei leaves the room with a smug look on his face. 

“Cute,” he comments. “Stubborn.” And then, as if Zhenya was previously unaware, Sanja adds, “Young, too. Didn’t think you were one for robbing the cradle, Zhenya.”

“For fuck’s sake, Sanja! He’s twenty, not some baby-faced teenager, and I’m not that old. You’re making me sound like some kind of predator.”

Sanja snorts. “Still baby-faced.” They glare at each other.

“Why do you care, anyway?” Zhenya asks, more confused than angry. Sanja, as far as he knows, has never reacted like this to two teammates fucking before.  Teammates getting it on is a bad idea all around, but it still happens, especially at international events. A lot, actually.

Sanja shrugs. He grabs his bag and stalks over to the untouched bed at the other side of the room.

Zhenya watches him curiously. Of the two of them, Sanja is by far the most impatient. Zhenya can wait him out, and sure enough, it’s not long before Sanja starts talking.

“I saw Sid when I came in,” he says.

Zhenya frowns at the non-sequitur. That’s not what he was expecting.

“He was waiting in the lobby for me,” Sanja continues. “Wanted to say he thought I played well in the playoffs and that we should have won the series, that we were the better team. Lundqvist is an ass, he said.”

“Lundqvist _is_ an ass,” Zhenya agrees immediately, because somehow Sid is the one with the cry-baby reputation, but Zhenya has never seen anyone whine at the refs as much as Lundqvist does. Fucking ass can’t stand players in the crease.

“He looks good,” Sanja says, and then, inexplicably, “we’re going out tonight.”

Zhenya sits up at that. The way that sounded, as if by ‘going out’ Sanja meant something else entirely. Something more like what Andrei and Zhenya have been doing.

“I’ll join you.” Zhenya feels deeply uncomfortable all of a sudden. He’s being irrational. Sanja has just entered into a new relationship and he is happy with Nastya, Zhenya knows he is. And Sid is…Sid. It’s not like anything will happen. It’s not as though it would be any of his business if it did, but—

Zhenya doesn’t want them to go out alone. Not here, not in Prague.

Sanja can be very charming. Zhenya knows all about just how charming he can be (they’d spent two months in a highly volatile relationship before it had, to the surprise of no one, crashed and burnt).  The thought of Sid on the receiving end of all that charm, though. It makes something clench uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach.

Sid and Sanja have grown to be good friends, of course they have, it’s what Sid does with every one of Zhenya’s paramours, because he’s a good friend, the best, and Zhenya—

“When are we meeting? I should probably start getting ready. It’s pretty late already.”

He gets up from his chair, looking over at Sanja and expecting him to look annoyed that he’s invited himself along, but instead he looks oddly pleased, as if Zhenya tagging along is exactly what he wanted.

“Seven,” Sanja says cheerfully. “You’ve got an hour to get ready. We’re meeting in the lobby.”

Zhenya stares at his sudden change of mood. He’s not sure how, but he’s pretty sure he got played just now.

Sanja casually goes about his business. “You might want to get a move on,” he advises, blithely ignoring the way Zhenya scowls at him suspiciously.

“Uh huh,” Zhenya says as he makes his way into the bathroom, eyeing Sanja warily all the while.

An hour later, they meet Sid in the lobby.

He’s being chatted up by the hotel receptionist—totally oblivious—and lights up when he notices them.

“Geno!” he says, so pleased to see him, Zhenya can’t help but grin back. He sneaks a look at Sanja, sending him a smug smirk at the way he goes completely ignored.

“Miss me?” he prompts, knowing it’s true but wanting to hear it anyway. They saw each other last two weeks ago when the season ended, and it’s been weird, Zhenya being in Ostrava and Sid in Prague, so close but unable to see each other anyway. Until now. Sanja was right. Sidney does look good.

Sid laughs and pulls him in for a familiar hug. “Not even a little bit,” he lies badly, the soft strands of his hair tickling at Zhenya's chin. Zhenya's grin widens as he hugs Sid tight, breathing in the familiar smell of him. He's feeling more at ease suddenly.

“Zhenya?” he hears from behind him.

He pulls back from Sidney and turns to see Andrei looking at them curiously.

Zhenya freezes.

He sends Sanja a look of pure panic, but the bastard only shrugs and looks back at him helplessly, and this is how Sid finds out he’s been fooling around with a rookie teammate—because Sid is incapable of noticing when people flirt with him, but he can read Zhenya as if he is a language of his own.

Sidney, other than giving Zhenya a truly unimpressed look—and they’ll be having words later, Zhenya can already tell they will—invites Andrei along, because of course he does.

Which is how Zhenya ends up having dinner with his ex, his lover, and Sid. 

(It’s an interesting night.)

 

* * *

 

**3\. Maria (#11)**

“This is hands down the ugliest decor I’ve seen in my life. Why would you model your club after a prison? Honestly. Men.”

Zhenya stares, stunned silent by the woman before him. She looks back at him with a haughty sniff.

“This is your club, is it not?”

“Yes,” Zhenya says, finally finding his voice. “I’m Evgeni Ma—”

“Malkin. Yes, I know,” the woman says. She’s a tiny thing, not usually Zhenya’s type, but blonde, which is. She’s beautiful; great tits, pretty face, skinny, the kind of woman who’ll look beautiful on anyone’s arm.

She knows too. He can tell.

If Sid were here he’d call him out for being a shallow bastard, but he’s not, and Zhenya is five shots into the night and well versed in how this goes besides. He can’t recall her name, but he recognises her.

She’s a socialite, a social climber, and Zhenya is her ladder—if he’ll allow it.

He’s intrigued despite himself.

He buys her a drink, laughing when she asks if it really counts as buying it for her when he owns the place.

Her name is Maria, and her family is new money by way of investments mostly. She’s clever and calculating, measured, and when he wonders what a girl from Moscow is doing in Magnitogorsk, she feigns innocence and bats her eyes coyly.

“This is where all the best people are, no?”

Zhenya is, and Sanja, too, with _his_ Maria. Viktor, the Sergeis (all four of them). They’ve been celebrating their win at Worlds for nearly a week now, starting in Belarus before moving to Moscow and then Magnitogorsk, steadily losing more and more teammates as the celebration tapers off.

“Yes,” Zhenya says. This is where all the best people are. Almost, anyway.

“Well, there you go.”

He wouldn’t like her, he thinks, if she wasn’t so obvious about what she’s doing. There’s no pretence, no confusion here. She’s talking to Zhenya because he’s rich, because he’s famous, and because his name means something.

She never pretends any differently. Zhenya respects that.

He brings her back to his group and introduces her to his friends, suffering through Sanja’s amusement about Maria and Maria before they call it a night.

Sanja catches his arm as they’re leaving. “You’re still so hung up on me you’re emulating me now?” He clucks his tongue. “People will talk, Zhenya.”

Zhenya looks at his shit-eating grin and rolls his eyes. “It’s not like I chose her name, you idiot.”

Sanja barks out a laugh at that. “Don’t be mean. I'll tell Sid on you. He likes me better, you know.” It's a blatant lie, and Sanja says it only because he knows it will get a rise out of Zhenya. Bastard.

“Do _not_ bother him," Zhenya tells him firmly. "Sid has enough to deal with right now.”

“Hey, I’m just saying—”

“No. I mean it, Sanja. Lay off him.”

Sanja’s brows furrow. “Did something happen?” he asks, losing all of his previous cheer. There’s a look of concern on his face.

Zhenya sighs. He runs a hand through his hair, looks at where Maria and Maria are chatting with the Sergeis. “It’s his wrist,” he admits. “And the situation with the team. Shero just got fired, and coach probably will too. It’s tearing at him. You know how he is.”

“You’re worried about him.”

He is, though Zhenya doesn’t say so aloud. “Just leave him alone for now. Sid has enough on his plate; he doesn’t need you harassing him.”

“As if I would,” Sanja protests. “Sid loves me.”

Zhenya snickers. Against his best efforts, he thinks. Sanja is like fungus; he’ll grow on a person if left untreated. Sid is no different.

They say their goodbyes soon after and part ways both with a Maria on their arms.

Zhenya brings her home and then to bed, and they stay holed up in his apartment for a good two days, fucking, eating, sleeping. Rinse and repeat. It’s objectively amazing.

When it’s time to leave for a vacation he’s got booked to the Maldives, he invites Maria along, and they spend their days frolicking in the warm water and tanning in the sun. It’s good. _Very_ good.

Maria stays with him through the summer, through camp, and then the pre-season. She meets his friends and teammates. She meets Sid.

She doesn’t like any of them (and they don’t like her).

Zhenya realises then. He’s been living in a bubble since Worlds, where it’s been just the two of them and everything has been great because there’s been no one else to interfere, no one to disrupt the status quo. Not anymore.

It’s even stilted with Sid—Sid, who’s always gone above and beyond in making sure Zhenya’s lovers feel welcome in Pittsburgh and with the Penguins. This time is different.

They try, they both do. Even Maria, because she quickly realises what it means to Zhenya, but things are never not awkward between them. His girlfriend and his best friend.

They have nothing in common, nothing to bond over. It’s unsettling. Zhenya doesn’t know what to do about it, knows he doesn’t like it. He’s used to keeping Sid close, for it to be Zhenya and his partners and Sid.

(He’s used to having the best of both worlds.)

He starts pulling away, spends almost all of his time with Maria—he hardly sees Sid outside of hockey.

“I wish,” Zhenya says one day.

“You wish what?” Sidney asks.

Zhenya shrugs. They’re in New York for a game. September has bled into October into November. It’s all routine, but Zhenya feels off. Wrong. “Wish things could be different,” he says finally.

Sidney looks at him for a long moment. He says nothing—by way of which he says everything.

Zhenya thinks he knows then.

(He’s unhappy, and he’s been unhappy for a while.)

He knows what he has to do.

Out of all his girlfriends and boyfriends, Maria is the one he comes the closest to marrying. She’s perfect in every way that should matter (but none of the ways that do). She’s Russian, a woman he can start a family with, has no career of her own to interfere with his, and would make the perfect hockey wife. She’s beautiful and intelligent and funny and kind when it suits her—and Zhenya doesn’t love her. Not enough, not the way he should.

He’s in New York, about to the play the Rangers in just a few hours, and he’s standing inside Tiffany’s by himself, staring at all the pretty engagement rings. When he pictures any one of them on Maria’s finger, it looks wrong.

It takes him a while before he realises it’s not the rings there’s anything wrong with. It’s the hand that wears it.

(It’s too small, too delicate, not broad enough.)

He thinks, at the heart of it, they’re too alike. Both too selfish and too vain and too loud, and neither of them care enough to fight about the things that matter.  They just aren’t meant to be, him not for her and her not for him. It’s as simple as that when it comes down to it. He deserves better. Maria deserves better.

Zhenya needs someone who’ll call him out when he’s being an ass. Someone who knows when to push and when not to. He needs someone who feels like home, like safe and quiet and calm when everything else gets too crazy.

(He needs someone like—) 

He leaves the store with no ring.

 

* * *

 

**4\. Wednesday (#4)**

The first thing Wednesday says to him the morning after their one-night stand is, “You’re hotter than I expected.”

Zhenya takes it as a win.

They’re at Zhenya’s, though he’s not sure how they got there from the club the night before. He remembers meeting her, remembers thinking she was beautiful, and he remembers alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.

Everything else is kind of a blank.

“You want breakfast?” Zhenya offers, because good behaviour should be rewarded.

Wednesday looks at him speculatively. “You’re my rebound, you know,” she informs him bluntly, but there’s a smile playing at the corner of her mouth and she doesn’t seem to be in any kind of hurry.

Zhenya makes her breakfast.

It’s a little awkward having to go through the introductions again (and then explaining who he is because, “Are you rich or something?” Wednesday asks as they make their way from his bedroom to his kitchen, looking around the place appreciatively. “You seem rich.”

“I'm a hockey player,” Zhenya replies, a little taken aback. They’re in Pittsburgh. It’s a rare person who doesn’t know his name here. “Play for Pittsburgh Penguins.”

“Hockey is a white people sport.” Wednesday shrugs carelessly. “Anyway, I’m not from around here.)

She’s a physical therapist from Jackson, Georgia, just broke up with her asshole of a boyfriend, and is in Pittsburgh for a six-week temporary work assignment to get away from said asshole.

“Hence the rebound sex,” she explains, and Zhenya nods knowingly. He’s familiar with the ritual himself.

“So,” he says, shifting on his feet when he’s called her a taxi and walked her to the front door. He wants to see her again, but doesn’t want to push if she’s just gotten out of a relationship.

Wednesday grins at him, her dark eyes sparkling. “See you tomorrow?”

Zhenya grins back at her, a little in love already. “It’s a date.”

One date becomes two and then three, and Zhenya goes from being the rebound to the boyfriend—

“Which actually doesn’t mean you’re _not_ the rebound anymore,” Flower says a couple of weeks later, in the middle of January. “But maybe find a way not to be. I like her. She's way too good for you.”

They’re at one of their regular bars in Pittsburgh, Wednesday meeting his teammates for the first time.

Zhenya can’t stop grinning as he watches her arm wrestle Jordie, laughing at the way the rest of the guys crowd around them, cheering her on.

His friends are never anything less than cordial when he introduces someone new to them, but they get weary, and Zhenya knows it.

They like Wednesday, though. It’s hard not to love her. She’s always happy, always so full of life, and she doesn’t take anyone’s crap. Zhenya has never met such a practical person in all his life.

He can’t wait for her and Sidney to meet.

“Sid meet her yet?” Flower asks, as if he can tell what Zhenya is thinking.

Zhenya shakes his head. “Haven’t seen him in a few days. He’s been bad lately. Holed up at Mario’s.”

“Yeah.” Flower sighs, looking troubled. They’re distracted by the cheer that goes up when Wednesday wrenches Jordie’s hand to the table.

Zhenya grins, proud.

He can’t stop thinking about it, though, later. He misses Sid, talks about him all the time to Wednesday and knows she wants to meet him, but—

Sidney has been concussed for nearly a month. Zhenya had no idea, before, that concussions could be like this.

He comes to see them at practice sometimes, but the visits are brief and he tends to avoid the bigger crowds, wincing at loud noises and shielding his eyes from bright lights.

Everyone grows more and more concerned. _Zhenya_ grows more concerned.

“You really care about him, don’t you?” Wednesday says once. There is a look in her eyes, something Zhenya can’t quite make out.

“Yes,” he says, because he is, and there is no point in lying. Sidney is important to him. He's Zhenya's best friend.

Wednesday looks at him for a long moment, her eyes searching. Finally, she smiles, nodding to herself as if she’s figured something out. “Okay,” she says easily. “I can’t wait to meet him then.”

It takes a few more days before she gets the chance.

Zhenya hasn’t seen Sidney for almost a week at that point. He’s got his own injury by then, has contracted a sinus infection, and he wants to see his best friend, goddammit. It’s the All Star weekend, and neither of them can go. Usually Zhenya wouldn’t have cared either way, and neither would Sid, not really, but Sidney had received the most fan votes by a large margin, and he’d been looking forward to the event and to get to interact with his fans. That was before he was placed on IR.

“We go visit Sid,” Zhenya announces stubbornly, because enough is enough.

Wednesday only looks at him. “Is he having a good day?” she asks, and Zhenya doesn’t deserve her. He just doesn’t.

“I’ll check,” he says sheepishly, grateful that Wednesday cares enough to prioritise Sid’s health above Zhenya’s sometimes selfish needs. There’s no point invading Sid’s space if he’s having a bad day.

He fires off a text message, knows calling will only make it worse if Sid is having symptoms, and breaks out into a pleased grin when he get an answering text, giving them the go ahead.

“Let's go!” he says happily, showing Wednesday the text so she knows he’s not bullshitting her.

She shakes her head at him, chuckling a little at his enthusiasm, but they go.

It plays out exactly the way Zhenya hoped it would.

“Wednesday?” Sid asks when Zhenya introduces them. “Like Wednesday Addams?”

“Yes!” Wednesday laughs delightedly. She shakes Sid’s hand a little harder, seemingly forgetting herself for a moment. “Almost no one catches the reference! They always think I’m named for the day, but my mama is a huge Addams Family fan. Says she’d name me Lurch if I’d been a boy.”

Sidney grins. “I prefer Wednesday,” he tells her.

They get along like two peas in a pod, just like Zhenya knew they would. He’s disappointed when they have to leave, and is pleased to find that Wednesday is too.

“I had fun,” she says when they’re back at Zhenya’s. “I’m really glad I got to meet him before I leave.”

And, somehow, between meeting Wednesday, dating her, introducing her to his friends, and worrying about Sid, Zhenya has forgotten that she is only in Pittsburgh for six weeks.

It’s been five since he met her.

They break up on the day she leaves, Wednesday sad but ever practical, and Zhenya bitter and maybe a little angry. He asks her to stay, says she doesn’t need to work, that he makes enough for them both.

Wednesday shakes her head. Her stay was only ever temporary, and if he’s honest with them both, Zhenya had known that from the start.

(He was the rebound after all.)

 

* * *

 

 

**5\. Viktor. (#15)**

Zhenya has been checked into the hotel for all of seven minutes when he meets Viktor. He’s Nastya’s cousin—"Several times removed," he explains—and Zhenya normally knows better than to get involved with his ex’s future wife’s family, but Sanja can never not do anything large-scale, so Zhenya is trapped on an exotic island for the week leading up to his ex’s wedding day, and Sidney is not there yet to talk him out of doing something stupid.

If Zhenya is forced to spend a week being happy that Sanja is getting married and settling down while Zhenya is _yet again_ frustratingly single—and he’s starting to think he’ll never find the person he’ll spend the rest of his life with—Zhenya feels as if he can be excused a few bad mistakes.

Viktor certainly doesn’t seem to mind.

And it’s not like Zhenya isn’t genuinely happy for Sanja and Nastya. They’re all good friends, despite the fact that Zhenya and Sanja used to date, briefly.

Zhenya knows himself, though, well enough to recognise he’s jealous. Not of Nastya (Sanja and Zhenya love each other, yes, but they were never _in_ love, not really, and they are far too alike for it to have ever worked out between them anyway), but of the easy trust and love that Sanja and Nastya share between them.

Zhenya is happy for them, he is, but he’s tired. So very tired.

It’s easier to distract himself with Viktor than to think about how sick he is of failed relationships and how much he wants to find  _The One_ already.

“What are you doing, Zhenya?” Seryozha asks him five days into the week-long wedding celebrations.

They’re on the beach outside the hotel, watching the Gonchar kids play in the shallow waters, and Zhenya should love it, should love the sun and the heat of the Maldivian weather, but instead he just feels tired.

The Maldives are beautiful, is making a strong case for paradise on Earth, and yet Zhenya can’t find it in himself to enjoy it. He just wants this week to be done.

“Don’t,” he says. The sun is beating down on his skin and he is too hot, too lethargic to bother with pretending. He doesn’t think he’s been particularly obvious—Zhenya has been a good friend, has smiled and said all the right things the entire week, he’s been happy for Sanja and Nastya—but Seryozha knows him better than most. He’s always been good at cutting through Zhenya’s bullshit.

He would be. He's practically been a second father to him despite being only twelve years older.

Seryozha looks at him for a long moment, his gaze a heavy, measured weight.

Zhenya ignores him. He keeps his eyes on the girls, his lips twitching into a small smile as he watches them giggle and splash in the water. 

Something clenches painfully inside his chest, something wistful.

“Sidney is flying in today,” Seryozha says instead of bringing up Viktor like Zhenya knows he wants to.

“I know. I talked to him on the phone yesterday. He seemed to be in good spirits.”

“The school was a success again, then?”

Zhenya snorts, but his amusement is evident when he says, “Don’t you know? Sidney Crosby specialises in success.”

“Still bitter about the point race, huh?”

“He came out of fucking nowhere!” Zhenya exclaims, exasperated. “Who the hell bounces back like that _in_ -season?”

Seryozha grins. “Sidney Crosby,” he says, and yes, Zhenya thinks. Most people have off-seasons and need the summer to recover, but not Sid. He’ll have a couple of bad months and then make up for it by producing at a superhuman level. The bastard.

(Zhenya is so very glad they’re on the same team.)

It’s a few hours later when Sid texts him to say he’s just arrived at the hotel, and when Zhenya walks into the lobby to greet him, Viktor tagging along because he wants to meet  _the_ Sidney Crosby, Sanja is already there.

So is Andrei and, because Zhenya has the worst luck—the _worst—_ Maria is too.

Three exes, his lover, and his best friend, all in the same room. That’s got to be a new kind of low, even by Zhenya’s abysmal track-record.

Sidney grins at them all, completely unfazed. He greets them warmly, shaking Andrei’s hand before allowing Sanja to grab him for a jovial hug. He grunts at the rough pounding of Sanja’s fists on his back.

“Okay, okay!” Sidney laughs as he pulls away. “That’s enough, Ovi.” He turns to Maria, his smile dimming, more shy but no less friendly as he greets her. “Hi,” he says, and Maria laughs, her pretty face lighting up with it. She kisses his cheeks hello.

Zhenya smiles at the sight, a little nostalgic. He’d loved Maria so much, thought he was going to marry her once. It's been bittersweet, to be back in the Maldives with her, the place they first fell in love. They'd broken up for a reason, though, as Maria had reminded him when they first saw each other again—before enquiring after Sidney, because of course.

It isn't lost on Zhenya, the irony of how Sid and Maria hadn’t really gotten along while Zhenya had been dating her. It wasn’t until they broke up that Sid and Maria wound up as friends.

Zhenya is still not sure how that happened, but he puts the blame mostly on Nastya, who is a close friend of Maria’s independently of both Sanja and Zhenya.

And hadn’t that been a surprise?

Andrei is there because he is Sanja’s teammate, but Maria is there for Nastya. A bridesmaid, even.

“Zhenya? Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

He startles, turning from Sid and Maria to see Viktor looking at him expectantly. Zhenya had forgotten about him for a second.

“Right.” He clears his throat, his voice rough over the English vowels when he says, “Viktor, this is Sidney Crosby. Sid, this is Viktor.” He doesn’t introduce him as his boyfriend or lover, but by the quirk of Sidney’s brow, Zhenya thinks he reads the subtext just fine.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Sid says, and then there is more small talk before, finally, the others take their leave and Zhenya gets Sidney to himself.

He follows him to his hotel room, listening to Sidney chatter on about his hockey school and the kids he’d spent the week making sure had fun while still learning important stuff _without losing a single child, okay?_

“They’re tiny, and there’s a lot of them. Keeping track of some hundred and fifty odd kids is a lot harder than it seems.”

Zhenya laughs. He claims Sidney’s bed, reclining against the pillows and watching as Sid moves around the room, putting his stuff away and hanging up his suit so it won’t wrinkle before the wedding. He rolls his eyes fondly as Sidney fusses with the hangers, adjusting them just so.

Sidney gestures with his hands as he talks, more free with his emotions without any cameras around, and Zhenya watches him, his gaze warm.

He can feel his cheeks straining from grinning so widely; his eyes are crinkling at the corners.

He’s missed this.

It’s only August, and Zhenya saw him last back in May, but it feels like forever ago. “You look good, Sid. Happy.”

Sidney stops mid-sentence. He turns to look at Zhenya, surprised by the interruption.

“I—thank you. You look good too. Tan.” He smiles. “Maybe a little sunburnt.”

They stare at each other, Zhenya smiling like a fool.

He feels that something from before unclench inside his chest.

“So, Viktor seemed nice. Looks to be your age too,” Sidney teases. He walks over to the bed, pushing at Zhenya until he gives in and moves to make room for him.

Zhenya pulls a face. “Ha ha. You so funny.” He’d been with Andrei for less than a month, but the age difference had been incredibly apparent in the end. Zhenya has been single since. He’s gone more than a year without seeing someone; it’s the longest he’s gone without being in a relationship since before Oksana (since before Sid).

And now there is Viktor.

He shrugs his shoulders and feels his side move against Sid’s. “Viktor and me is just for fun, for week only. We’ll go separate ways after the wedding.”

Sidney hums as if he understands, but Zhenya is not sure he does, not really.

Zhenya isn't sure what Sid’s deal is. He rarely dates and he _never_ has casual sex; it’s never been a problem either way, and Sid has never judged Zhenya for his own tendencies.

He is infuriatingly pragmatic like that.

(Zhenya wonders, sometimes, if Flower is right when he says Sid is just waiting for that special someone.)

He lifts an arm to fit around Sidney’s shoulder, tugging him closer to his side and burying his face against Sid’s hair, breathing him in deep. He’s missed him so much.

He’s been spoilt, he knows, because having spent a year without a lover to distract him, Zhenya has spent most of that time with Sidney.

He thinks it’s probably telling, that it’s the happiest he’s been in some time.

Sid hums again, sounding perfectly content, and Zhenya feels impossibly fond of him.

“You hungry?” he asks. His voice is hushed in the comfortable quiet of the room, as if by speaking too loudly he’ll break the moment between them.

Sidney cocks his head to the side thoughtfully. “Steak?” he asks hopefully, pulling back slightly so he can look up at Zhenya. His hazel eyes sparkle in the natural light of the room.

Zhenya stares back at him. He feels his mouth go dry.

Sidney is—

Beautiful. Sidney is kind of stupidly beautiful, and it’s not the first time Zhenya has thought so but—

Oh.

_Oh._

 

* * *

 

 

** \+ 1. Sidney. **

The first of Geno’s lovers that Sid meets is Oksana.

He’s nineteen and she is twenty-four. It’s only a five-year gap between them, but the distance feels huge.

Sidney doesn’t try very hard with Oksana. He’s only known Geno for a couple of months the first time he introduces them and Sid and Geno aren’t that close yet. They’re not the best friends they will be; there is no reason for Sidney to actively befriend Oksana.

Sid is polite, a little shy, and Oksana is perfectly cordial. But distant. She’s lonely, Sidney thinks. She hardly speaks English, and while Geno can maybe string together a total of ten sentences in English without the help of a translator, he at least has hockey to distract him, has teammates that become friends that become family.

Oksana has no one.

No one but Geno—who spends a good seventy per cent of this time away from her because of hockey (because of Sid, more and more as the years pass, as Geno and Oksana break up and get back together and break up again).

She’s lonely when they’re on, and Geno is not the most observant person, but he can tell that she’s unhappy, tells Sidney as much, and that in turn makes them both unhappy. Geno, because Oksana is his girlfriend and he’s sad that she’s miserable. Sid, because it makes Geno upset and he doesn’t ever want to see him upset.

(They’re best friends after all.)

When they break up for the final time, Oksana texts Sidney:

_He’s yours to take care of now. Don’t let him down._

It’s the last of only a handful of texts he ever receives from her. A lot of things change over the years from when Sid and Oksana are first introduced. Her English improves, Sid and Geno grow closer, Oksana becomes more and more miserable the longer she stays with Geno—and through it all, Sid and Oksana are never friends, not really.

He thinks that’s probably both of their faults. He thinks it’s mostly his.

_(He’s yours to take care of now. Don’t let him down.)_

She’s tasked him with the care of Geno’s happiness, because she loves Geno even now and Sidney does too (not like that, not yet).

Geno is Sidney’s to take care of, to make sure he’s happy, and Geno is never as happy as he is when he is in a relationship. Sidney has never met anyone who hates being alone as much as Geno does—He’s nothing like Sid, whose skin itches when he’s been around people for too long.

So maybe Geno dates a lot after Oksana. That’s okay. Sidney befriends them all; he’s determined for none of Geno’s partners to be another Oksana, to feel so lonely and isolated that it would make them miserable, which in turn would make Geno miserable, which would make Sidney—

Maybe not miserable, but upset. Definitely.

So when Geno introduces girl after boy after girl after boy, Sidney learns their names and takes the time to get to know them long after their teammates have given up doing the same.

It’s not that their friends are mean-spirited or intend to be cruel when they jokingly make up bets among themselves for how long this one or that one will stick around. It’s just, Geno introduces _a lot_ of lovers over the years, and people become attached, become friends. It’s hard on them all when another of Geno’s relationships go sour. It’s just easier in the end, not to get too invested.

And maybe it would be for Sidney too, but—

_(He’s yours to take care of now. Don’t let him down.)_

Sidney takes the time. He becomes invested and he becomes their friend, and the thing is, they’re all lovely. Geno has good taste and is a good judge of character. He’s in love with them all (a little in love with being in love, Sidney thinks sometimes), but none of them stick. None of them seem to be the elusive _One_ that Geno’s been searching for for years.

Instead there is a revolving door of lovers, of people exploding in and out of their lives in a whirlwind of emotion and hope and something new and maybe _this time, maybe this one will stick_.

Sidney ends up being good friends with most of them, so much so that he tends to keep in touch even after they have moved on from Geno. He likes some more than others and definitely ends up with a few favourites over the years. He’s particularly fond of Wednesday and Andrei.

And Ovi, of course.

Geno sometimes feels a little betrayed by it, he knows, and maybe it’s weird that Sid gets invitations to his best friend’s exes’ birthdays and weddings (he’s a member of the bridal party for no less than _four_ exes, and once, for Wednesday, a bridesmaid. The less said about that the better).

He even gets invited to a few naming ceremonies for some of Geno’s exes that end up having kids. Julie even has a child, a girl, she names after Sidney; Sydney with a Y.

It’s strange, maybe, but they are his friends, and Geno is not too upset by it despite his grumblings. He’s sad after his breakups, but they tend to end amicably. Besides, he usually moves on to the next one pretty quickly.

The last of Geno’s lovers that Sid meets is Viktor. Sidney won’t realise that for a while yet.

They’re both twenty-nine; no gap between them at all, no distance.

It’s ten years later, but Viktor is not another Oksana, not by a long shot.

For one, his English is impeccable.

“You and Zhenya are close,” Viktor comments on the day of Ovi’s wedding. Sidney is not a part of the bridal party this time, but Nastya has deemed him the only one trustworthy enough to separate the cream-coloured napkins to go with the lilies and the slightly off-cream-coloured napkins to go with the orchids. Something about his superior eyesight. Sidney’s not entirely sure, but it had been an obvious dig at Ovi and so Sid had agreed to oversee the table settings—much to Ovi’s amusement.

He’s not sure what Viktor is doing there, though.

“You are best friends, da?” Viktor asks after waiting for Sidney to finish instructing one of the wedding helpers on how to fold the napkins just so.

“Yes. For almost ten years now.”

Viktor hums. He’s silent for a moment, but Sidney feels the weight of his gaze as he flits around the large hall, checking on the different tables.

“Zhenya ended our arrangement last night.”

Sidney stops. He turns to look at where Viktor is lounging artfully by one of the tables. He’s a painter; everything he does is artful. “Oh?” he asks. He’s surprised. Geno is usually the one getting dumped. “Are you okay?” He knows they’ve only been doing their thing for a few days, but it’s still a breakup of sorts, and Sidney doesn’t know Viktor, doesn’t know how he’s likely to react.

Viktor waves a hand at him carelessly. “It was just a bit of fun. It was never going to last beyond this weekend.”

“I see,” Sidney says.

Viktor smiles at him knowingly. “You should save Zhenya a dance tonight,” he says.

Sidney stares at him.

He never really gets to be friends with Viktor. They didn’t know each other long enough, he supposes, and they don’t keep in touch after the wedding.

Instead, Sidney leaves the Maldives and returns to Pittsburgh with Geno and a bit of a sunburn—”A bit?” Geno mocks. He laughs delightedly. “Your face is pink!” he says, as if his skin hasn’t started peeling from where his own burn is starting to fade.

“Shut up,” Sidney grumbles, but sits still and lets Geno apply Aloe to that one spot on his back that he can’t reach himself. “I underestimated how hot the sun would be that close to the Equator. It happens.”

“Sure, sure.”

Sidney can’t see his face right now, but he just knows Geno is grinning wide. It makes him smile too.

“So. You and Geno,” Flower says in practice a few weeks later. It’s early October. They’ve just finished camp, and the first game of the season is only a couple of days away. They’re all (mostly) healthy, and Sidney is buzzing, his skin itching with the need for the season to begin already. He feels good. Is ready to go.

“You seem happy.”

“What?”

Flower looks at him for a long moment. “You live together now, right?”

Sid frowns. Of course they don’t. Flower is being weird, weirder than usual, except—

Now that Sidney thinks about it, he can’t remember the last time Geno didn’t sleep over. He’d followed Sid home when they got into Pittsburgh from Ovi’s wedding and just hadn’t left.

Huh.

“We live together now,” Sidney says, because they are and somehow he hadn’t noticed. He wonders if Geno knows.

Flower shakes his head at him, a slow grin spreading across his face. “You’re so weird,” he says, as if he has any room to talk at all. Goalies are, collectively, the weirdest people Sidney know.

“Did you know we live together now?” Sidney asks Geno over dinner that evening.

Geno pauses in the middle of demolishing the steak Sid had made him and looks at Sidney fondly. “Yes,” he says. “We live together for almost two months now.”

Sidney blinks at him. “Okay,” he says, and focuses back to his own steak. He doesn’t ask Geno to move out.

It’s not quite December when they’re out celebrating a win and Flower sidles up next to Sidney in his booth at their usual bar. He says, “So. You and Geno.”

Sidney momentarily flashes back to a Tuesday morning in October, but it’s weeks later and Flower is looking way too interested.

“What about me and Geno?” Sid asks, inherently suspicious of a Flower that is so obviously playing at innocent.

Flower shrugs, but doesn’t answer. “Haven’t seen Geno date in a while,” he says after a while. “He’s not even hooking up, is he?”

It’s Sidney’s turn to shrug now. “He’s single right now.”

“Oh?” Flower asks just as Geno returns to their table with two bottles of beer and a fruity cocktail he will claim is for Sidney but is really for himself. “Single, you say?” Flower asks pointedly when Geno has bullied him away from his seat next to Sidney’s, slinging a heavy arm around Sid’s shoulders and pulling him close to his side as he reclaims the spot that had been his before his beer run.

“Go away, Flower,” Geno says, scowling. “Go bother rookies.”

“Geno,” Sidney scolds, and tugs at the hand draped over his collarbone in punishment. He doesn’t mean for their fingers to tangle together, but Geno captures his hand with his and doesn’t let go, and Sid just kind of lets him hold his hand. His skin is rough under Sidney’s, calloused, and so very warm. They stare at each other.

Neither of them notice when Flower chuckles, amused, shaking his head exasperatedly before he leaves them to it.

By the time Sidney finally starts clueing in to the fact that something has changed monumentally between them, it is already Christmas and Sid is busy worrying about seating arrangements and making sure they have enough food for the Christmas dinner he somehow got roped into hosting.

He’s not sure how he ends up in the middle of the kitchen, clinging to Geno in exhaustion while the caterers around them discreetly and effectively go about their business—not a single one of them as much as blink at the two hockey players hugging it out in the midst of all the chaos.

“Sid,” Geno says. His voice rumbles out of his chest, and Sidney can feel it vibrating against his skin. He closes his eyes and presses closer, sighing at the feel of Geno’s hands gently rubbing up and down his back.

“Have to relax and not stress so much. It’s just dinner, da?”

“I’m not stressing,” Sidney mumbles against Geno’s shoulder. He smiles grudgingly when Geno laughs at this bald-faced lie.

“Why so stressed? It’s just dinner with friends. Already know everyone here.”

“I just want it to be perfect. It’s our first time hosting Christmas dinner; I want it to be perfect.”

And that—

They’re hosting a Christmas dinner together, and Geno lives with him, and Sidney thinks maybe, just maybe, he’s been a little slow on the uptake.

They sleep in separate beds in separate rooms, but they drive to the rink together in the mornings, they go home together and eat together and Sidney doesn’t know a single person among his friends and family who think that that is weird. He’d met Julie for lunch the other day and she had brought Sydney, smiling when Sid spent half the time cooing at the little girl and asking him when he and Geno were going to have one of their own.

Sidney had shrugged and smiled—and he’d wanted. He hadn’t thought it an odd comment or how little sense it made seeing as he and Geno weren’t a couple because—

“Geno?”

Geno hums. He pulls away from Sidney and looks down at him quizzically.

“Are we together?”

“Want to be together?” Geno lifts his hands to cup Sidney’s face, and Sid presses into the touch the way he always does.

Oh.

“I’m attracted to you,” Sidney blurts out. He is incredibly surprised by this. “Sexually,” he adds, because he cannot stress how rare that is. Sidney used to think there was something wrong with him. When he was younger and he was mostly busy with hockey, the other guys around him would be talking hockey and sex and more hockey, but for Sid it was usually just the hockey.

He just didn’t care about sex. He didn’t think about it and it wasn’t something he wanted—until he fell in love and Sidney started thinking and then wanting too.

He identifies as demisexual, but it took him years to discover that term and accept his own sexuality. It probably wasn’t helped along by the environment of micro-aggression that is sports culture.

Sid has only had sex a few times. He’s a natural introvert and finds it hard to fall in love usually, too busy with hockey and everything else, but with Geno it’s different.

Geno is there, always. He does the same things Sidney does, is at the same places, and Sidney thinks maybe he’s been in love with his best friend for a little while now.

“I'm attracted to you too. A lot. Is okay?” Geno asks uncertainly. His eyes search Sidney’s face worriedly, because they’ve never talked about this, they’ve never talked about how Sidney hasn’t really been with anybody else in all the time they have known each other.

“I—yes.” Sidney looks up at him, at Geno’s warm, brown eyes and full lips. He pushes up on his toes and leans in, closing his mouth over Geno’s in a soft press of lips. More a peck than anything else.

“Oh,” Sidney says when he pulls back. That was. Yeah. Sidney likes kissing Geno a lot. “We should do that again.”

Geno breaks out into a grin. “Yeah?” he asks. He dips his head and bites teasingly at Sid’s lower lip before letting his tongue soothe the gentle sting, running his tongue along the seam of Sidney’s lips until he relents and Sidney opens his mouth and lets Geno press inside.

Geno is still smiling at him when they break apart, but his eyes are serious, intent. “I’m want us to be together, Sid,” he says. “I’m want us to be together always.”

Sidney stares at him. He thinks maybe he wants that too.

“I would like that,” he says. “I would like that a lot.”

He grins when Geno laughs happily at that and draws Sidney in for another hug, holding him tight. “Best, Sid!” Geno is muttering into his hair. “My Sid. Best.”

“Yes,” Sidney agrees. He tilts his head up for one more kiss, smiling against Geno’s mouth when he obliges dutifully. “Yours.”

(When Sidney announces to their friends and family that he and Geno are now officially together, Flower and Duper laugh and laugh until they’re red in the face and Tanger kindly informs Sidney that they’ve been together for half a year already.

Sidney can’t really disagree with that.)

**Author's Note:**

> There is an interlude from Sid's POV after Andrei that you can read [here](http://hazel3017.tumblr.com/post/137966281928/i-loved-your-latest-part-of-5-exes-and-sid-with) and one from Geno's POV after Wednesday that you can read [here.](http://hazel3017.tumblr.com/post/139451092288/15-exes-and-sid-interlude)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] (1)5 Exes and Sid by Hazel_3017](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11372013) by [brightnail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightnail/pseuds/brightnail)




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